When LA meets NY
by Little-Firestar84
Summary: Could an unknown cadaver and a gentleman robber in NY helping in solving a case in LA? Brenda thinks so. It's cross-jurisdiction all around as Johnson has to deal with a team of CSIs who wants to solve the case in thier own way. Ft cast of CSI NY R&R!
1. One day, in New York

_New York, two days ago_

"So, you see Mac…it's just that I found what you asked me to and so, that's why I'm here and…" Adam, one of the younger members of the CSI unit of the New York Police Department, approached his boss, Mac Taylor, who was reading few reports in his office; as the young man (dressed in jeans, t-shirt from some unknown rock band and sweatshirt and a pair of red converse) entered, Mac looked at him, confused, and with an expression that poor Adam saw as disappointment and anger.

"So, what can you tell me about the robberies?"

"Yeah, well, about that…I think that…"

"_WE _think that we may have a problem." To end the sentence it was a man who was the complete opposite of Adam, both physically, in clothes and mannerism: Robbery and Homicide Detective Don Flack was just a little older than Adam, but, unlike him, he was taller, and while Adam was brown haired and eyed – and his hair was an hell of a mess -, Don had black, short hair and a pair of magnificent blue sapphire eyes; where Adam still looked as a college guy, Don always had white shirts, ties and suites – and, mostly, where Adam was still a bit reluctant about dealing with his superiors, Don was well aware of his position and known how to deal with people – any people. It was one of the most hated detectives of the department, to be honest: he didn't have any problem in bringing in other officers, if they were guilty of something – not exactly what few people loved.

"Explain" Mac only said, without looking at them; it was the beginning of the year, and the beginning of the year was even worse than the summer – because, while in Summer they kept having an escalation in murders, in January it was the turn of the suicides (and of the attempted suicides), and it meant one thing only: more wok for everyone.

"Have you ever heard of the Gentleman Robber?" Don asked him, more with rhetoric than for a real reason.

"You're telling me that the footage we have of the guy who robbed 4 banks in 5 weeks is of Thaddeus Swanson, the gentleman robber from California?"

"Yeah, I know, weird that someone leaves California for New York, but Ivy did too, so maybe it's not that weird and… - As he saw how they were looking at him, Adam become quiet; another of his problems was that he didn't know when he had to shout up, and he had definitely to stay quiet, since said woman he mentioned, a fellow CSI, Ivy Carter, was, actually, Don's ex-wife and Mac's long-time protégé – sorry. Anyway, we can only _assume _it's Thaddeus Swanson, since everything the LAPD had of him was an identikit and an old lady in an asylum who kept saying the gentleman robber was the son of the boy she and her husband had taken in and that his birth name was Thaddeus Swanson."

"And, guess what? Thaddeus Swanson was a guy there were no records on, like he never existed. I followed the case and let me say it – Don said pointing at Taylor – that's bullshit. We may have found the Gentleman Robber, but I bet all my money it's not some dude called Swanson."

"How much did he take this time?" Mac asked, finally looking at them, interested.

"In total, the guy, whoever he is – Don said controlling his notepad – has taken over 2,500,000 of dollars. He knew where and when to strike. I'd check again inside the banks, see if there can be any kind of connection…."

"Swanson stroke 12 times at least, and he had took over 8,000,000 of dollars in California. Then, he vanished, and no one has ever found what he did with the money."

"Maybe he is waiting for the right time to use them – Don says scrolling his shoulders – or maybe they are in Swiss or in some other fiscal paradise…"

"Anyway, he is still wanted for the robberies in California, and, if we found traces of him here, we had to call the department that was investigating on him…"

"Do you want me to?"

"No, I'll do it by myself, I still have few connections on the other side of the country… maybe I'll be able to convince them to let us work it out on our own."

Few minutes after the Homicide detective and Adam left, the person the goofy CSI mentioned early was resting her right shoulder against Mac's doorframe, the living embodiment of mess - and, presumably, of a dump; Mac lifted his eyebrows at her, knowing that there was no way she had been in such a place – he had sent her with the Bomb Disposal Unit in a small wood in Central Park.

"Yeah, I know I smell, thanks a lot, there's no need to point it out to me, ok?" she was crossing her arms, annoyed but grateful she had missed everyone – Mac didn't count, he had seen worse.

"What… I thought you were supposed to… I thought that…"

"Yeah, well, the abandoned beg happened to not be a bomb, but, guess what? - she said pointing at her clothes, the red vintage polo shirt and the jeans, the still almost tidy but sticky and smelly – There was a cadaver! A cadaver made in pieces and it wasn't only decomposed, no, it was _liquefied_! Because that's what happen when a cadaver stays closed in s small space for even few days!"

She still stand there, where she was – it was a matter of respect for her boss and friend – because it didn't seem nice to kill him with the nauseating smell - , and because, frankly, what she had to tell him she could say it from her position. Ivy, who looked older than her 37 years – and Mac thought she had took more than the 4 years she had spend there in NY - stared at her feet and lowered her voice, trying to sound less angry and annoyed; she couldn't blame Mac because things with her husband, Detective Don Flack, hadn't worked – besides, they weren't pretty civil with each other, and even managed to remain a bit "friends", as friends exes could be (because, apparently, being good people doesn't mean that you'll get the happy ever after).

"Sheldon and I gave a look at the bones, and we think it's a male in his late 40, early 50; he seemed pretty healthy. Since the body is liquefied, we can't look for DNA from his tissues – no blood, skin cells, and the few strands of hair we found don't have genetic material. We could try the bones, but it's kind of hard. It's a particular exam, and we don't have the instruments. We should ask the Jeffersonian, but it will still take days, maybe even a couple of weeks, and, therefore, there's the fact that they work for the FBI and I know we don't particularly appreciate when we have to call them in on a case; I'd do that as a last resource. – She paused, taking a big breath, as she was going to get closer, but still standing at the same distance – the teeth are gone, disassembled from the rest of the mouth – no way we can find out who the guy is from them."

"From your statement, I assume he didn't have anything with him" Ivy, dark brown hair on her shoulders, now tied in a messy ponytail, bit her lips, and, as he saw her expression, Mac smirked: she was up to something.

"Ivy Carol Carter, what are you up to?"

"Well, we may not have the great and mighty instrumentation of the Jeffersonian…"

"Tell that do the Chief, not to me. He is the one with the budget issues."

" But, as you know – she started to talk again, gesturing a bit, shifting her weight on her right leg – My CSI partner and I, a certain Dr. Sheldon Hawks, are still well aware of the brunch of science also known as Forensic Anthropology and forensic Art; as a matter of facts, we are two of the major experts of the country, and, taking the skull of the man, basing our work on genetic statistic and analysis of the facial structure, we could easily rebuilt his face as it was when he died with a small piece of chalk and few colors…BUT it will take a couple of days, at least." she smirked satisfied, smiling at him, like she used to until few years ago.

"Do what you have to – he said with the same smile – BUT don't pass too many nights here and get that awful smell away from you!"

"Right boss, I'll not keep Sheldon away from home for too long – she turned as she was already walking away, eyes focused on the board in Mac's office, on a photo the man had just put on, serious , and pointed at it with her right index - Ehy, why do I think I know the guy?"

"That's because you probably do, Ivy – he got closer to the board again, giving his back to the girl, eyes focused on the picture – Ivy Carter, meet Thaddeus Swanson, also known as…"

"Also known as the Gentleman Robber! - she smiled with satisfaction, remembering the case; it wasn't a case she had worked on when she was with the LAPD, but she wasn't stupid, she knew what was going on at the Department and, moreover, she was the kind of person obsessed with reading as many newspapers as possible. She looked at him, a bit unsure, and, maybe, even shy, and serious again– Is that the case you are working on with Don and Adam?"

"Once the evidences will tell me something, I'll let you know."

Again she turned to leave, but this time, as she was walking away, it was Mac who stopped her, shouting her name so loud that it almost broke her heart – it was like he was desperate, or at least extremely sad, and she couldn't get why.

"There's something I'd like to ask you from a while Ivy… - he got closer, and then stopped, hands in the pockets of his pants, taking a deep breath – are you unhappy? Because I know you from more than 20 years and…and I'm worried about you."

She left her back resting against the doorframe, looking at him with sad but sweet eyes, hair in her dark orbits. "I'm not unhappy, Mac, really – she paused, looking in the void in front of herself – and I'm not going to do something stupid. That, I already did it 20 years ago."

"But you're not happy, either" he looked at his feet, like they could give him an answer, any kind of answer, like he could forget what it was really about, what the real topic was.

"Once the evidences will tell me something, I'll let you know" she said, a smile clear in her voice, quoting him as she did often; as he lifted his eyes to look back at her, she was already gone. "Yes, you're not happy here, and it's my fault."


	2. One evening, in Los Angeles

_Diclaimer: don't own, don't sue. _

_note:_Last chapter I forgot to tell you that Detective Ivy Carter is the character i created for my own CSI NY universe - read all my stories in that category, you'll find her.

_Los Angeles, few hours later_

"So, I was thinking…" Fitz was sitting in front of Brenda, who was serving him, proud but a bit unconfident, the now cold dish of home-made pasta she had done for dinner – a result of both an extremely quiet week with almost nothing to do at Major Crimes (which resulted in Brenda's self-imposed need of practicing her cocking skills) and a full day to end a two years investigation on drug dealers at the FBI (which, on Fritz's side, resulted on another late evening with another cold dinner).

"What?" Brenda was leaning in direction of her two years husband, eyes wide open, like to expecting his statement to be about the dinner – like he didn't know that, deep down she hoped that it was about something work-related….

"Since you only cook when you have a boring day… I was wondering if you might help me… - he coughed, correcting himself – if your unit could help the FBI…"

Biting her lips, the light of curiosity was now turned on in her eyes, as she looked at Special Agent Howard with a quizzically expression. "We're not supposed to join the FBI again, are we?" she was leaning in his direction, almost mimicking him, but she was at crossed arms, like she was impatient – and she was impatient. Last time he asked her a favor, it didn't tuner out so well…

"Do you seriously think that I have not learned something on that occasion? – He smiled, grinning – besides, I ask for your help because I trust your intuition, you know that. Plus – He paused – if I let you work on your own, you'll get to do what you love the most in the world: lying to people you're questioning."

"Oh, please, how can we force them to confess if we stop lying?" she snorted, turning a bit, forcing Fitz to laugh more.

"We're looking for a guy, some Edward Manson the second."

"And what did he do? Or, maybe you can't tell me, right?" she wasn't paying too much attention, looking in her plate and eating normally, with gusto. Actually, Fitz known it was quite the opposite, she was just acting with nonchalance to cover the fact that she was dying to know the whole damn thing.

"C'mon, Brenda, you know what kind of stuff I usually investigate on, right?" Again, he smirked. It was weird – or at least, for someone different from them it could be seen as "weird" - they were eating tranquilly, while talking about crimes and investigations, like it was natural; but, of course, it was natural: it was natural for people like them, or at least, for Brenda (like his sister once said, Brenda wants everything, and with everything, she meant love and work.)

"Drugs" she stated, again calmly, like she was talking about flowers or the weather.

"Yeah, the guy disappeared like, we're with nothing and…" she was looking at him with an anxious expression – anxious because she needed to know everything – when her mobile started to ring; it was a new one, but as close to the previous as the previous one has been to its predecessor (it was with a sense of annoyance that she had found out that the ring tone had been modified a bit) and, with Brenda being Brenda, she _had _to answer.

"Deputy Chief Brenda Leigh Johnson – a pause – yes, I remember that case, Chief, the gentleman robber. We had an identikit, a probable name but no biological evidences or anything else – a pause, signs that Pope, on the other side, was talking - You found him? Where? Wait, what does it mean, we don't have him? You have or you don't have him! – A pause, another one, longer – he has been spotted multiple times? Where? - A pause – What, you sure? – Pause - What does it mean; they don't want to help us? - Pause – Ok, Ok, I get it, they want to help us but with just a little of cooperation… - she left her chair, walking in the room, puffing like an annoyed child as Fritz kept looking at her with amusement (seeing or even only hearing her and Pope annoy the hell out of each other always made this effect to him) – I'm sorry? – She was wide-eyes, as she sat down, Fritz joined her: she looked pale, as she had just had a heart-attack – You want me to go to New York? – she paused again, coming back in possession of her natural shade - Yes, Ok, I understand it, but, it's just that… it's such a surprise and… no, no, absolutely no, I didn't have something in mind for the week-end… yes, I'll be at LAX as soon as possible… Yes, I'll call Gabriel and… What does it mean, "Take someone else too"? What? Are you serious? They give all this power to their CSIs? - She puffed again – No, no, it's not a problem, it's just that… Gabriel is good, he is loyal and everything and… no, he is not a naïve, he is just… young. No, Will, listen, I need Gabriel! What does it mean, "Bring Flynn along"? I need Gabriel! What? Oh, please, not! He isn't my favorite! - she tired her innocent and childish voice, a voice broke by tears, the same voice she had when she saw Kitty's dust into her purse, and Pope gave her a work she needed and wanted – Will, if you'll force me to bring Flynn along, I'll ask Gabriel to come as well. No, I'm not going to ask Provenza, no, I know he doesn't fly, yes, that's why I want Gabriel. Ok, Ok, I know! We have a low budget! It's already a miracle we're leaving for NY and I shouldn't ask for more! Yes! I said I'll be there! No, I don't need you to…. I can call my men on my own, you know? What… no! I'll call them and… ok, ok, I'm going to get ready!"

"Why do I have the impression that you'll not help me?" As she hung up a bit mad and exasperated by the pretenses of the man she used to be in love with when she was younger and naïve enough to believe him, Frits was on his knees, at her side, a grin that was shouting amusement, but his smile… as she looked at him, she saw the shadow of sorrow.

"Oh, Fritzie, I'm so sorry… I can't believe that he has the gut to call me in the middle of the night ordering me to…"

"To do what you'd like to do - he pauses, kissing her quickly – Brenda, c'mon, you have to write this date down! When there are cases with double jurisdiction, you always ask Pope to let you do your work and he always come out with an excuse! Now, for once, he not only allows you to leave, but he let you go with two of your men!"

"It will not take too long… just a couple of days… - she said like she had to convince him to forgive her – I'll be back before you'll realize that I'm gone!"


	3. When LA meets NY

_Disclaimer: Do I really have to say it all over again? No, I don't own the Closer!

* * *

__New York, now- One Police Plaza, CSI Unit_

"I can't believe the CSIs have that much power! I still can't believe that they just put one actual detective on the case! – As Brenda and her team, consisting at the time of just two agents, left the elevator, she adjusted her purse, her big, old leather purse on her right shoulder, lamenting going towards the reception and annoyed – and they didn't even send someone to take us at the airport!"

"Chief, I'm pretty sure that…" Gabriel said, at her side, but feeling the need to put himself behind the woman who led his team and any other human being – sugar deprivation was doing bad thing to Chief Johnson's brain and mood.

"Yeah, well, obviously they are jackasses who think to be so much better than us and… - Flynn stopped, smirking with amusement at the people in front of the reception, removing the toothpick from his mouth – and look who is that we have here, my favorite CSI of ever… Detective Sergeant Ivy Carter!"

Ivy turned, and, left the cup of hot dark coffee on the desk, looked at the man who was grinning in front of her, satisfied like a child in candyland.

"Lieutenant Flynn?" She didn't know how she sounded - She wasn't even sure if it seemed a question or an affirmation; the only thing she knew was that, in front of her, the 37 years old woman who stayed still for few seconds but seemed hours to her, there was one of the man she has hated the most in the world: annoying, bully, pretentious, arrogant, jerk, chauvinist, bigot, with bad sense of humor and… and, in short, her opinion of Andrew Flynn wasn't exactly the best- as a plain human being, at least; as a cop, things were quite different.

"Deputy Chief Johnson, Detective Sergeant Gabriel – he said going at her side and giving her a pack on the back, like they were friends, acting as he often had done in the past to annoy her, leaving his hand on such shoulder –that's Detective Sergeant Ivy Carter. She was my CSI before I joined Major Crimes, Chief."

"It's Detective First Grade Carter, Lieutenant" She didn't even bother to turn to look at him as she removed immediately with distaste his hand from her body; It wasn't like she didn't like him, in fact, it was quite the opposite: Flynn was full of vices and issues and wasn't even close to perfection, but he was a good coop, one of the best, and she had always had a soft spot for good cops; plus, she still remembered what she thought the first time she saw him, more than a decade before, two weeks after she had joined the LAPD. She had thought that, even after all his years as a cop, with everything he had seen, he still had life in his eyes – life, passion, and, even if she knew he didn't want to admit it, she was sure that, deep down, buried under almost infinite levels of his strong armor, he still hoped to make the difference with his actions. He definitely looked like that kind of man, a man with whom time had been nice, since he surely didn't looked like an almost 56 years old, and was still able to stay in those suites so well… she wondered how a man of "such" an age could look, sometimes, so young and alive…

"No dress code here?" he smirked again, looking at her, dressed with jeans, a grey Calvin Klein t-shirt and sneakers, totally different from the suits she used to wear in Los Angeles; Ivy didn't even bother to answer, she just looked at him, annoyed, at crossed arms.

"I'm sorry Detective Carter – Brenda said, getting closer to the detective – but, we're looking for Detective Taylor and… and…" she started to go through notes.

"Flack, Detective Don Flack Jr., that's the man you're looking for. – she smiled, as she shook hands with Brenda and Gabriel before to turn in direction of the receptionist, a woman in her early 40 – Estelle, could you call Detective Taylor and let him know that our guests from LA are here and that I'm escorting them in his office?"

"You still didn't answer my question – as she rolled her eyes, he turned to look at his boss and co-worker, still smirking – that woman had always been a p… a torment."

"You can say "pain in the ass", Flynn – she turned to look at him, smirking, just a little, massaging the back of her neck, almost like… flirting – the truth can't hurt me"

"My point – He paused – the good thing about her is that she hates when people asks her to repeat and rewind, so she never uses technical terms."

"Yeah, at the LAPD, my rule number one was: "Talk to Flynn like you'd do to a 3 years old child."

"Again: see what I mean?"

She stopped in front of an office, and gently knocking on the door as she rolled her eyes at Flynn's statement, she waited for the okay to come in.

"Ehy Boss, there are the LAPD detectives you were waiting for" She left the door opened for them, remaining outside.

"John Doe?" he said turning his gaze to the woman.

"John Doe is still a John Doe – She said as she saw the expression on Mac's face – and your expression seems to tell me that I have to come back to my skull… - She pauses, as she shifted her line of sight to the others, as she was already leaving – Madam, Detectives."

"It's always a pleasure to have you to humor me, Carter! - Flynn almost shouted at her, grinning, while she was already out of sight, but rolling her eyes since she was still hearing him quite well – She was the CSI I was often paired with" he explained, turning his gaze to the people with him in the room and adjusting the dark grey jacket; his eyes found the ones of the still young but already first Grade Detective Flack: the man looked annoyed, even angry and mad for some reason. Was he annoyed by their presence or by _his _presence in particular? Frankly, it looked like it was mad just because someone had talked with Carter referring to a "past" they shared, although just in a professional way.

"We need to know what you have about Swanson" Brenda suddenly said, without even sitting, looking directly at Mac – she had understood that the man in charge of the investigation was, in spite of his position, the CSI, and not the Robbery and Homicide Investigator.

"We'll be more than happy to share what we know about this man, but we need you to do the same, Deputy Chief Johnson"

"Swanson is still wanted for robbery, in California, and we never found the money. The crime hasn't been prescript yet. "

"Well, maybe someone didn't do his work properly, Detective" Don smirked of his victorious smile as he answered to Flynn, like in a challenge of some kind.

"Are you accusing us of something? Last time I checked, you were the idiots who had the guy under their noses and let him going away!"

"Lieutenant Flynn – Brenda turned and talked quietly at him, still shouting, but the kind of shout that is made at low voice - Are you going to make me regret your coming here with me?"

"No chief – he said, looking at the other detective and again adjusting his jacket – I'm sorry, I'll behave, but it's him the one who has a problem with me! You saw how…"

"I don't care how he threatened you! You're going to allow me to do my work and to behave, in spite of everything they throw at us!"

"Understood, Chief, I got it; for once I'll do my best to behave."

Meanwhile, Carter had come back in the room used as "art lab" and, once regained possession of her white coat, she joined CSI and former Medical Examiner Sheldon Hawks again at the table where the almost entirely rebuilt face of a man was standing, void eyes looking at them, like shouting demonic prayers.

"This thing – She said pointing at the thing, thoughtful like something was in her mind, while examining a series of fake eyes and wigs – is going to give me nightmares…"

"C'mon, they poor man right now looks exactly like a horror B-movie bad guy… - he smirked a little, knowing that she too wasn't that serious; the good thing of the NY Crime lab was how "light" everybody was… - so, what do we do with eyes and hair? What are we supposed to do, trying all the possible combinations or what?"

"Statistic – she answered, smiling proud of herself, while taking a set of fake brown eyes and a wig of the same color, a little lighter tone, and going to position it on the fake head, still lost in her thoughts – in the liquid of decomposition we were able to find a couple of locks of hair…"

"Too degraded to give us any DNA, but at least it tells us his hair color and how long it could be! - He was looking at her, putting the selected wig on, and giving the last touches to the "piece of art"- And statics tell us approximately which color his eyes could be!"

"Yeah, and… - she stopped, like in trance in front of the face who was now revealing what once was its owner – Shit!"

Even Sheldon, with just 4 mere years of knowledge of the woman, knew that, when Ivy Carter cursed openly in front of people, it meant only one thing: bad news.

"Don't tell me you know this man!" he looked at her, astonished, and then at the head and back at her and so on: had it really been that easy?

"we have to call Mac…"

"Ok, but I don't volunteer; the Chief forced him to work with the LA detectives, and I bet he isn't exactly in a good mood…" And, as he wa smirking and try to humor them, Ivy was already out of the door, along the way for Mac Taylor's office on the opposite side of the lab; once she reached the room she needed, she heard that, inside, they were still discussing animatedly the case; biting her lips and a bit reluctant, taking big breaths to be brave, she knocked at his door; she could hear, from the outside, the man leaving his place, and going to open her, slamming the door wide open against the wall. "What now? - He was almost shouting; Ivy's fist was still in the air, and she was a bit scared, she had to admit. Had she already seen him that way? – I hope you're not here to waste my time, because, as you can see, I'm obviously busy!" No, she had never seen him like that, it was sure.

"I'm… ehm, I think… - she was almost babbling, and she felt the need to remember him who she was- there's something you should see right now, Mac..."


	4. What's mine is yours

_Disclaimer:Uhm, last time I checked I didn't own them- guess it didn't chenge in the last 5 minutes or so..._

* * *

"I'm… ehm, I think… - she was almost babbling, and she felt the need to remember him who she was- there's something you should see right now, Mac" She went closer, and, at crossed arms, with anxiety and worried, she whispered something in his ear; Flack and the LA team couldn't eardrop the pair, but they could see he was worried and upset, and that the sentiment was mutual, or at least that was what the face on the woman with the white coat said.

"Could you please follow us?" Mac turned to look at them, and left, following the brown-haired woman, as he was followed by the other detectives in the building, for a couple of corridors until they reached a lab that looked more like an art class than an actual crime lab.

"Deputy Chief Brenda Leigh Johnson, Detective Lieutenant Flynn, Detective Sergeant Gabriel, that's one of my CSIs, Dr. Sheldon Hawks, he is also a Medical Examiner. – he paused for a while, then looked at Ivy – go on"

"Well, you were looking for Swanson – Ivy said as she went in front of a steel table, where a man a bit younger than her was standing, sitting in front of looked like a statue, but it was hard to say, since she was covering it; as soon as she arrived it, she turned and looked at them, allowing them to see "who" the subject of the piece of art was, starting a sentence that Mac ended – the good news is that we no longer have a John Doe and that you have found "Swanson"…"

"And the bad news is that now we have a murdered robber and no trace of the money…"

"And you weren't aware of the fact that you had his head here?" Brenda was almost talking with an annoyed voice, she felt like she was talking to a brunch of children.

"How the hell did he end decapitated? - Flynn went closer to the remains of the man, and looked at carter with a mix of humor and desire of knowledge. – That's fake! It is chalk, isn't it?"

"What a detective – Ivy said a little sarcastic, looking at Flynn at her side and then at the others – in a certain way, he has been decapitated…"

"But, technically speaking, we are the ones who did it" Sheldon started, his usual crossed arms position.

"What does it mean that you decapitated him? His body was evidence and…"

"I'll explain it to you" Ivy said as she asked them to follow them into the crypt with a gesture, where the real remains were, putting the head into an evidence box and taking it with her, as well as another white box, with the indication of **_"CASE 230110/13"_**

"Welcome to the Morgue - she said as they entered into Sid's reign, and she approached the Medical Examiner who was putting his instruments back after an autopsy. – Sid, do you mind showing us the remains of John Doe 230110?"

"Do you need a mobile table for the boxes too?" he said as he opened one of the drawers of the steel wall and uncovered the body, raveling just bones, while asking with a gesture to his assistant to bring said table over to them.

As the young woman let the table to Ivy, the CSI immediately removed all the items from the boxes and let them free, so that everybody could see them, all the while, Breda was looking at the bones at open mouth.

"The smell is disgusting! How long has he been outside?" Flynn, hand on his nose and mouth, was still the only one able to talk – Johnson couldn't believe that her case had shifted from robbery to homicide like that. Beside, now that it was murder, New York had priority on it and with the only wanted dead, it was almost closed.

"And it's just Evidence #1, or the duffel bag where Swanson had been put after he has been murdered – Ivy said as she showed them the item – someone saw it in Central Park, called the Police who send the Bomb Disposal Unit who discovered that, inside it, there wasn't a bomb, but, actually, a liquefied cadaver…-

As she said so, she indicated a bottle of white glass, full of a dark-brown dense liquid that Flynn had in hand – I'd not open it, I had to throw away the clothes I had on and to take 12 showers in a day to eradicate the smell, and it's not nice."

"Please, don't tell me that all Swanson's remains are inside that bottle…"

"Well, no, we've been able to clean the bones as, well, they were still intact" - Sheldon said showing them the bones and taking the skull in his hand, as hamlet did in the drama with his father's one – you see, even with just few days, if a body remains locked inside a small place, the lack of oxygen amplifies the activity of the pathogens, that cause a velocity of degradation 10 times superior to the normal rate. Unfortunately, it means that there's no way to use the DNA too, since there's no DNA left to analyze in the first place."

"I thought there was DNA in the bones…"

"Mitochondrial DNA, to be more accurate, but it's hard to extrapolate, if not with the right instrumentation, which we don't have."

"I see that we aren't the only one with budget cuts - Brenda said answering to Hawks – how do you rebuilt… how did you do it?" she asked while pointing at the "head".

"The facial structure of the skull is unique, as fingerprints – there are actually 27 points that indicates the differences and the similarities between individuals; using these 27 points, we can rebuilt his image"

"The bag comes from a gym in Manhattan; it's in a club called the four seasons. They guy I talked with yesterday said just members with premium access have the entire package, and he said it's the model they gave in 2008 to new members."

"How many people are we talking about?" Gabriel asked, looked at the logo on the bag, fighting the nausea caused by the smell.

"Too many people – Ivy clarified – besides, we're still working on the warrant"

"Not good"

"Didn't know you had the power to state the obvious, Flynn - she said annoyed, without looking at him too much.- are you checking if there's someone connected with all the robberies?"

"What do you have in mind?" Mac asked her, smiling proud, not sure if it was for the victory or because she has been his protégé.

"I've seen the schemes; this is not something he could have done on his own. He must have a mole on the inside… or, even better, someone who's somehow connected with all the banks."

"It's what we thought about California as well" The chief said

"Yes, but it's someone new. Something happened to the person who helped him in California, and, out of fear, he moved out of the state. After a while, he decided that it was time to strike again, and started to look for the right person. Swanson is not exactly a gentleman. He let people believe he is such, because of how he acts, but, in truth, he is just someone who's able to play with people's feelings and manipulate them; he can read people, so he knows how put them at ease."

"You think that whoever helped him killed him as well" Brenda said matter of fact.

"Chief Johnson, 16 years of experience tell me that 90 times on 100, it's the accomplice the killer. - Ivy paused, turning to them – it rained a lot last week. It's probable that the bag was hidden, and that the water bran it to the light. The killer thought, probably, that he'd be far away when we'd discovered the body"

"I'll tell our guys to check on this, while I'll call Judge Mason. Maybe he'll give us the warrants, when I'll tell him what this is about…" Don left after saying that, mobile already in his hand.

"The bag was able to preserve what was left of the man, but, unfortunately, erased any other evidences; we have a couple of locks of hair, but, first, they match Swanson's description, second, even if they belonged to the killer, they are partly putrefied, so no DNA available – Ivy paused a bit, looking at Mac – so, do I have to assume that now that this is top priority I'll have an homicide detective to work with me, or do I have to assume that I'll still have to work on my own?"

"Is Ivy Carter finally admitting that she needs actual help from a homicide detective?"

"Lieutenant Flynn, I don't see why she could need any help – Mac said grinning, a bit sarcastic - first, she and Sheldon did an hell of a job together, second, that's part of our case now, meaning, she'll have Detective Flack."

"Yahoo - she faked enthusiasm, totally faking it, lifting her fist in the air like she was victorious. – so, since I'm done with the evidences of the case and Sid hasn't performed an analysis of the remains yet, what do you want me to do?"

"You don't know how Swanson has been killed!" Brenda yelled, turning to face Mac, the highest official present at the moment.

"As you previously said, we have budget issue. We have just a couple of ME – he explained her, cold, wanting to prove a point, almost shouting – and we have at least 40 cases each month, the majority of them being murders or suicides. And let's not start with the times we have to examine a body for the mere fact that we don't actually know what we are dealing with!" and with hat, he left the room, leaving behind a stunned Brenda

"He is a bit overprotective of us – Ivy paused, looking at a fuming Brenda, on the verge of crying – maybe I could try to convince the guy from the 4 seasons to give us the names of the Premium access of 2008…"

"Oh, sure, because they always wait at open arms to work with the police…"

"Flynn, after so many years, if there's something you should have learned, is that underestimating my manipulative abilities may be a big mistake…"

"I doubt that showing a bit of your skin will convince the guy to help us…"

"Well – she said crossing her arms and leaving – we'll see..."

"Flynn, I don't care what Taylor says. You follow that woman and report to me!"

"No, I don't think so" Ivy turned and, still at crossed arms, faced Brenda, serious.

"I'm the led detective here, Chief Johnson. That's my case, and if someone is going to follow Carter that's me!"

"Miss Carter, if you give a damn about your career, you'll listen to me. You're not Taylor, right? He may not listen to the head of detectives, but you are not in such position!"

"You know, maybe I become deaf in the last minute, but last time I checked – She said sarcastically, smirking - I didn't say anything about not working with you."

"Ivy, I seriously hope you're joking!"

"Explain yourself" Brenda's answer come out a bit harsh, as it was supposed to be.

"Chief Johnson, you may have noticed that I always speak my mind."

"Detective, what's your point?"

"With all due respect, Gabriel looks more like the kind of man who uses to go to gym. If he wants to join me, fine, if he doesn't, with all due respect, convincing people to give me information it's what I do best."

"I thought you were complaining about not having any homicide detective with you, Ivy. You didn't forget about me, right?"

"Listen, if I'll not be able to gain the information in my way, I'll call you, and you'll go to the judge. Otherwise, I'm pretty sure I proved over and over that I don't need someone to babysit me, ok?"

"Ivy, listen, you shouldn't…" he said, grabbing her for the wrist, avoiding her to go away.

"What, Flack, did you turned into territorial alpha male while I wasn't watching?" Even if she was smiling, more like a grin, actually, while she forced him to let it go of her, Don Flack knew she didn't like what he had just done, as he knew that he had probably lost his currently ex wife for good.


	5. being happy being unhappy

Disclaimer: ok, wait a sec, let me check on my legal papers...no, it's not here, not even here, ah, wait, I got it! Uhm, nope, I don't own the Closer, sorry. But I do own the DVDs.

A/N: Can't believe it, but I'm back and I've finished it! Yep, during the Christams time, there's nothing here on TV, so I decided to give a look at my old The Closer DVD, and to the one I recently recorded. I'm incredibly happy that my brother got the pay tv for Christmas, and that said pay-tv was already tramsitting the last season of the closer, already translated! (I'll see the season finale in a couple of months, since they are transmitted two by two). Looking at it awoke my mind, and I come up with this...

* * *

"Tell me I'm a genius" dressed with a t-shirt and plain jeans, tennis shoes, her hair into a high pony-tail, Ivy almost thrown the papers on Flack's desk, Gabriel at her back, crossed arms. If he is slightly uncomfortable, his arms crossed, Carter never felt better in her whole life (or at least in the last six months, after the divorce had been finalized), and, with a grin that screamed "I'm full of myself but for a good reason", she is almost tempted to add something in the line of "and add you regret leaving me and you'll regret it for the rest of your life", but there were too many people around, and, besides, she didn't want Don to think she felt bad because of the break up. She absolutely didn't want to let him believe she missed him, even if she, indeed, did, but he didn't need to know this particular.

"How the hell did you ménage to convince the director to give you this?" he looked at the papers in front of him, and then, stared at the slightly older woman with disbelief.

"You know, I always follow the 3 Ms- Machiavellian, misleading and manipulative"

"Finally someone who understands that if we don't manipulate we don't catch the bad guys…" Brenda whispered as she gave a look at the lists, not to herself but not properly at loud either; it was, though, loud enough that Carter could hear her. The former LAPD grinned a bit, laughing under her teeth before coming back to being serious, or, at least, as serious as she could be.

"I thought you followed the 4 Ms- Machiavellian, misleading, and manipulative and messed up"

"Yeah, well, anyway" she told him, trying to not being too "moved" by his smart-ass remark, that she didn't appreciate too much while I was there, mister Perfection, I noticed that often the director forgot to register the entries, especially if the clients were well known, and I imagined that the owner wouldn't be that happy, right? And, were we going to get a warrant, the man should have been there, and he'd found out for sure what this incredibly nice guy was doing… so, our boy, for his sake and the own good name of the club allowed us to see the registers. Now, I'd hate to tell you that, but as a good robbery and homicide detective, you should…"

"I know how I'm supposed to compare lists of names, Ivy, I'm not idiot! He snapped

"Well, I'm not that sure about it, I mean, you should consider that…"

"A certain Mark Brook is present in all our lists. He doesn't work directly for the banks, but for societies that work for the banks… he works at the development of anti-hacking programs and firewalls and so on."

Flack turned between Carter and Gabriel, who just spoke, and then, slamming the sheets of paper onto his desk, he forced himself to avoid hitting the wood with his fist, and decided to merely send a dead glare to his ex-wife. "You shared our info with them? It's OUR case; I'm the leading investigator here, Ivy!" he hissed, and Ivy shivered.

"Ehy, ehy, ehy, c'mon man, we're all on the same side, right? We are all working on this, no need to be so judgmental…" Flynn told the younger man with a mix of authority and hilarity, almost covering Ivy, who was still looking at the man in front of her like she didn't know him, scared like she was seeing him for the first time.

"Beside, Detective Flack, I'd like to remember you this is a shared investigation" Brenda told him, daring Flack to face her or to try to change her mind "we have as much of a right to have this info as you do. I heard that you and Mr. Taylor aren't exactly on "best friends" terms with the chief of detectives…"

"You'll never get a warrant on those bases. The evidences will be excluded from the case because she didn't get them according to the protocol" Flack hissed, facing Brenda.

"Ehy, c'mon, he was co-operating, I didn't steal them! And besides, you've never followed protocol strictly as well!"

"What I mean is that…"

"We'll ask Mr. Brooks to come here to have a nice chat. He doesn't need to know how we got the evidences, and until he doesn't lawyer up and I got a confession, we'll be good, detective"

But things didn't go as Brenda had planned. Brooks talked, the whole time, immediately confessed what he had done along with the man he knew as "Peter Spengler". Brooks was a man in his early forties, the stereotypical comic and computer nerd, with gigantic glasses, no hair and a prominent tummy- carter bet he had gone to the gym at least twice before giving up. He also still lived with his despotic old mother, which he resented with all his heart, was fearful and coward but with a slight greed running through his veins. So, when Swanson/Spengler contacted him, he accepted his offer. The man's plan was, Brooks said, genial. He took the money from the robbery, and, while everyone was busy dealing with him and security was down in order to avoid problems with him, his accomplice break the internet security of the whole circuit, stealing 10 dollars or so from each count of the whole circuit: people didn't noticed such a small amount of money missing, or, if they did, they didn't reported it, or they thought they were expenses for the count. At the end of the day, it was quite a number, and since they were clean, they could re-invest them in something more profitable.

But it was the real robbery to get Swanson into troubles. Apparently, during one of his first robberies, he stole money, documents and jewels from a security box, and the owner of said security box wasn't one to mess up with, but none other than Vincent Lo Casco, who, according to rumors, was quite the mobster. Lo Casco didn't like that someone had stolen evidences against him, so, fearing jail and/or blackmail, tried to track down the guy. Trying to track down the guy, he found out the little trick of the stolen money through the cyber net. Adding two to two, and with a little pressure, he found, like Carter years later, Arthur Lassiter, who was covering Brooks' same position in LA. Apparently, Lassiter didn't spoke, so Lo Casco's men went a bit too far with him, resulting in "Swanson" escaping.

Carter and Adam Ross were able to track down few of his movements once there, or, at least, the ones of Peter Spengler. Apparently, he had used, during the years, all the money from the cyber-crime, and not the millions he had physically robbed, scared that the boss could find him. But, at a certain point, the money ended, so he decided to ask for Brooks' help. Too bad that Lo Casco found out and threatened him; but, since it was the dictator's life in the balance, Brooks didn't listened to the mobster, and, instead, he asked Peter out, and confessed to his alley everything he had learned. Cross-referencing the data, it looked like Swanson/Spengler had been killed immediately after his meeting with the internet expert, suggesting that Lo Casco's men had followed Brooks in order to get to Swanson and close his mouth once and for all…

They were well aware that Lo Casco, lord of the LA crime community, wasn't going to be stopped easily, but, with the help of Brooks, they found enough evidences to stop, at least, the men who had actually killed Swanson-a little step in the right direction and towards justice was made as they confessed the murder. In For the whole duration of the investigation, Flack kept arguing with Carter about everything they could have to argue about, and, strangely, every time he was glaring at her, Flynn was at her side, glaring at the man in response (and few times, he even dared to put an arm protectively around her waist or her shoulders or on her own arm). Taylor wasn't telling them anything, he was in the middle of a war between one of his best friend, Don, and his protégée, Ivy, between the detective he always ended up working with and a faithful coworker. Things couldn't get messier for him… and for the two said investigators. After the divorce, Don and Ivy had managed to be civil for a while, when it was strictly work-related, but finding out that her husband had been left her for another woman, one Ivy worked with as well, didn't do any good to them, like it didn't do them any good the fact that, suddenly, Don seemed to have changed his mind about the divorce, something that Ivy hadn't done. But maybe fate was going to come in his help….

"Detective Carter, may I ask you something?"

As she was finishing changing with what she had, time before, left in her locker, after a quick shower, Ivy was stopped by the entrance of Deputy Chief ("Chief") Johnson; She just nodded, and, once closer, The Closer started to talk again.

"Are you happy with the life you have? Because I look at you, and what I see it's not an happy person, but, but even if I'm good at reading people, I don't know you well enough to say with absolute certainness if you are actually happy or not - Ivy took a big breath of astonishment- that was the second time in few days that someone had actually asked her if she was happy with her life; her silence suggested to Brenda the answer, and it was an answer not only she hoped for, but that she knew it was coming; reading people was something she had always been good at, and she had seen Detective Carter – as I thought. Detective, may I suggest you to ask for a transfer?"

"Well, I tried with Vegas and Quantico, but, as good as I am, I'm not even close to being good enough for the top"

"I'll make it short, Detective. Your talents are wasted here. Your talents will be wasted in any other plain CSI Unit."

"I'm… I'm sorry?"

"I've spoken with Chief Pope and Lieutenant Tao. I've been told that you were on the list of the possible members of my team. You had the chance to enter in the Priority Homicide Unit, and by now you'd be probably Lieutenant, but, instead, you moved here. I wonder why"

"I've been forced to – she quietly said, leaning against the cold material with her right shoulder, still facing Brenda – My captain's deputy… he thought I was under too much pressure, and that I could fall… that I could fall. My best friend died - she explained, she didn't know if to defend herself or her former boss - he thought it was good for me to leave. He told me to choose between a transfer and leaving the force, and… that's the only thing I'm good at, being a cop it's the only thing I know how to do. At the end, I didn't have that much of a choice." She ended the sentence with a smirk that tasted of sadness.

"Well, you see, I've been told that there are not enough women in my unit- as a matter of fact, I'm the only woman in my unit. – Brenda told her with a smile, giving a but reluctant and still uneasy Ivy a piece of paper with few numbers on - So, if you'll happen to apply for a transfer, I'll accept it; if you'll ask for a transfer, I'll be almost forced to say yes, Detective. It's time you stand for yourself, Carter. – she paused, stopping at the door, turning towards the other woman – let me know when you have taken a decision."

Ivy looked with shaking hands at the piece of paper she was holding, and, gulping, she said words she didn't know she was thinking yet, she said what she had wanted to tell since she had left on a plane at LAX…

"I've taken my decision" a bright smile was on her face.


	6. Unexpected wedding

Disclaimer: ok, wait a sec, let me check on my legal papers...no, it's not here, not even here, ah, wait, I got it! Uhm, nope, I don't own the Closer, sorry. But I do own the DVDs.

* * *

_Los Angeles, Six months later… _

"Seriously Carter, am I the only one uncomfortable in this whole situation? - Flynn was on his feet, looking in front of himself, dressed with a dark blue suit and a bit lighter tie, and he was shifting his weight from a foot to the other one; he was uncomfortable, and the fact that Provenza had forced him to not use any toothpicks was giving him no space to fight the discomfort. – Where do you think the real Provenza went?"

"At least you aren't' the one getting the dirty jokes about the best man and the matron of honor – she looked at her back at a woman a bit older than her – My sister keeps asking me how you are in bed and _outside_ it" she blushed a little, biting her own lips as doing so.

"Ehy you're hurting my fragile ego! Do you mean that I'm too old for you?" he was laughing, while she was giving him the "don't-start" expression, hands on her hips _Hot, _he thought, (_Don't think about it) _but the another though occurred to his mind: he was, indeed, too old for her. She was 37 and he was 20 years older. He could actually be her father – what they hell was he thinking about, seducing her, of all the women he knew, a definitely way younger woman and, moreover, a woman he was currently working with?

"You'd be surprised to know how many men of your age I dated in the past." She told him with a bit of malice in her voice. "Besides, you fall under a couple of the 4 categories of men I date: policemen, federals, military/former military, bastard."

"I'm not a federal"

"Yeah, I'm aware of that"

"And I wasn't in the military"

"Tell me something I don't know"

"Ehy, I'm not that much of a bastard! I can be nice, you know? C'mon, I've always been nice with you!" She smiled as he grinned in response

"But you're my partner… almost. It's you or either Gabriel I work with, but you… I know you from longer."

"If something _serious_ had to happen, it was doomed to happen a long time ago, you mean? - He grinned, waiting for the music to start. – Maybe it wasn't the right time. Maybe we weren't ready back then, have you ever thought about it? Besides, it's quite easy for a man flirting with you, and I've always loved flirting with you."

"Flynn, are you hitting on me? The boss would have your head for this, you know?"

"Maybe I'm serious, for once. Have you ever thought that maybe we are perfect for each other? Maybe what we were looking for has been right before our eyes the whole time"

"The only thing that I know is that, right now, we should look at the bright side of the thing" Carter answered as the music started and she HAD to take his arm and walk with him towards the aisle, almost whispering, as uncomfortable as him, if not more, but more relaxed than before.

"Have you finally decided to succumb to my charm?" she lightly stepped on his feet, on purpose, sending him a deadly grin, before answering.

"Soon, it will be over."

"The wedding or the marriage?" he answered grinning.

"Seriously, I need it to be over. And I need to vanish. Sanchez keeps calling me "the sexy bridesmaid", and he said I wasn't allowed to be _hotter_ than the bride!"

"I can't blame the man for this thought, though. Even I find you hot with this… –he paused –May I call it just piece of fabric?" he asked her, making a bit fun of the woman and of her short dress that was showing too much skin.

"I'll never forgive her!"

"Do you mean for Provenza or the dress?"

"Both" she answered, smiling, as they stopped in front of the altar where the public officer and Provenza were waiting for Angel Donovan, once Carter…

"I'm sorry madams, but as the best man, I have to steal the bridesmaid from you for a while. The happy couple wants to share the dance" As he rescued her from the group of no longer singles in their late thirties, Flynn grabbed her for an arm and guided Ivy towards the dance floor, where Mr. Louie and Angel Provenza were sharing the first dance as a married couple; other 4 weddings had done miracles for the man, Ivy though, since he was definitely a good dancer.

"What are you thinking about? - Flynn asked her, smirking, as a slow dance started and he guided her in the movements, but smiling, too, of a genuine smile. It was rather sweet and unusual for him, too, but, still, sweet, extremely sweet, like he really cared for her. Ivy smiled, her head almost on his shoulder, just took a big breath and thought. – Are you scared of having him like daddy?"

"He actually told me that I could call him daddy if I felt like doing it – she laughed softly – It'd be nice, though. It's been a long time since I had a father or something close to."

"Lousy father?" he asked, half smirking. She didn't seem to mind the conversation.

"Let's say he was a lousy everything. – She looked at her mother and Provenza, happy – I guess we'll have to share _Louie _from now on, since now he is my _daddy" _

She paused, looking at him in the eyes, deeply, but then a laugh escaped from her red lips

"What's so funny?"

"I was thinking… if Provenza is daddy, what are you, Uncle Flynn?"

"Nah, too formal… Actually, I'd not mind being just Andy for you, considering how long we have known each other." he laughed softly and freshly, thinking that yes, he'd like to hear her calling him Andy. Maybe screaming it in ecstasy, or moaning it, even, or simply calling him Andy while having breakfast and… and he definitely shouldn't go there.

"You know, I think I could like calling you Andy, at least when we're not around so many people. After all, as you so wisely pointed out, we've known each other for a long time, and, besides, it's kind of weird, being still on surname terms, and dancing with you, like that, with you being you, and me, with this… thing on."

He laughed softly and freshly, and stopped as he saw her biting her lips in discomfort, looking around them "Are you all right?"

"I hate her" she simply stated, looking again at him, in the eyes- hard, since she was looking at her feet. He laughed, bigger, stronger, but in the small of her neck, so that she could be the only one hearing it; he got why she was saying such an horrible thing about her mother, at least, if he looked at things from her point of view, but his personal point of view was quite good, and, as himself, he didn't complained; with the excuse of not being a formal or a religious ceremony, Angel had took for her daughter a black dress who didn't arrive at her knees, a soft gown like a flying cloud and a tube bodice, with the addition of high heeled stiletto sandals; the dress in itself wasn't the problem, it wasn't like it was something scandalous, but… but it left her tattoos out in the open, and she hated to let people see them – the rose on her right scapula, the small devilish winged heart on the back of her neck, and a sentence in Japanese Characters – Tao wasn't able to translate them, so it had to be in Japanese - on her left ankle.

"You know, in years that I've known you…"

"Being the pain of my existence, you mean?" she answered still laughing softly.

"Yeah, well, I've never seen you with a skirt or a dress."

"And your point is?"

"You actually have great legs, you should show them around more, besides, skirts kind of have their benefits – he paused, looking at said legs, a bit malicious– what does it mean?"

"Spanish and French, that I can do, but Japanese… let's say that, if the guy who did it was right, it means…."

"Bringer of chaos and order - a male voice said from behind them. - I'm sorry, am I allowed stealing this beautiful bridesmaid for the next dance?"

As the music stopped, they turned to look at whom the voice belonged to- and, as strange as it could be, it was someone totally unexpected.

"Detective… Flack, right? – Flynn looked at him, the same way Don looked at him in New York, while Ivy was still, at open mouth, wordless – weird seeing you here."

"Angel invited me" he said, smiling at Ivy and glaring at Flynn, who still had an arm around her waist, at the same time; the NYPD detective was talking with the man, but kept looking at the woman, never breaking eye-contact, like to…to dare Ivy to do something, to explain herself.

"Mum… she did… my mother….she…"

"How nice, she invited her daughter's former co-workers to make her a surprise! – He looked around, with a sarcastic expression, arms crossed, while Ivy was still looking at Flack speechless, a part of her hidden by Flynn, like he could actually protect her, or like she actually needed his protection - Isn't Taylor around?"

"She didn't tell you? – he turned to Ivy, grinning victorious, reading something entirely different from what her intentions had been in the first place– you didn't tell him…"

"Them – she clarified, mad, finally facing him – I didn't tell Flynn, and I didn't tell anybody else!"

"You didn't tell us what?"

"I'm her husband" he looked at Flynn in the eyes, shining for the small victory.

"Ex, you're my ex husband, and even if she invited you, you could have the decency to not show up, considering that you were the one breaking up with me in the first place!"

"C'mon V, we've always been civil, I don't see why we couldn't…."

"At work, yes, at work we got to be civil, but here… - she was going to leave, but turned and face him one last time – outside work… you asked for it, Flack, you wanted the divorce, and I signed the divorce paper because I was so idiot that whatever that could make you happy, I did it; now stay the hell away from my life, ok? Don't…" She pointed a finger at him, with tears in her eyes, and stormed off from the dance floor.

Almost an hour later, Flynn finally did man up enough to approach Carter, who was sitting on a bar-stroll on her own, slightly annoyed and definitely defensive. "Your mother's going to launch the bouquet. She wants all the un-married people around, especially the ones over 37 who happen to be females. "

"Two times married 37 years old Ivy isn't in the mood - she was sitting at the bar of the hotel where they were celebrating the wedding, after she has "escaped" from her ex; Flynn took his time to study her, to see if she was drunk, but she seemed only annoyed – Relax, that's cold tea on the rock, not something alcoholic. I'm not that much into alcohol." she explained, to defend her, or to explain, or…maybe she was only annoyed because he was here.

"I saw him leaving."

"Not before stopping by here announcing his departure, begging me to come back with him because he misses me so much and has understood that his life without me isn't worth living for. He told me that he wants me back home - She was hurt, as she left to join her mother, he could see it in her eyes and feel it in her voice, even if they weren't having any eye-contact, but was she hurt because she still had feelings for the man in question or because of what he did to her, was love or pride? – I explained him that I'm already home, and that the only mistake I did, was leaving LA in the first place." Somehow, as his hand found her waist again, Flynn couldn't help but smile, seeing her somehow relieved, smiling a little smile, but still bright and, somehow, happy.

"I have an ex-wife as well, for people like us, it's quite normal to have marriages that don't work." He tried to comfort her, even if he knew that there was no need to, not any longer, but, still…maybe, just maybe, even if Carter knew, kind of, of his history, like many other co-workers did, he felt like sharing something with her and her only, telling her something, anything, about himself.

"He died on duty. My first husband, I mean. A fugitive he was escorting escaped, and fired at him. I… I kept the damn ring on until I met Flack. – She paused, and, without noticing it, took his arm, for walking in direction of the couple, holding it with strength – I thought I was going to be happy with him, but, the only thing I got is a marriage that lasted less than a year because he fell for another detective, I lost my "friends" in New York because they were his friends first and now I even feel like a stupid because I didn't see that coming."

"Not that I give a damn about what you do with your life, but, hell, not following him like a lost puppy is your choice, and the best possible choice, even, if I can say it – he paused, and, once released from her grip, crossed arms, smiled – Tell me, detective, do you already have someone in mind, if you take the bouquet?"

"I guess you'll have to help me to find a policeman with the tendency to be a bit of a bastard to go out with, if I catch it. - **Oh my God, I have it! I took it! I'll be the next one! I'll get married in less than a year! – **you're not going to help Gabriel with Morales' advances, right?"

"Are you kidding? Where's the fun in that?"


	7. Confessions of troubled minds

Disclaimer: ok, wait a sec, let me check on my legal papers...no, it's not here, not even here, ah, wait, I got it! Uhm, nope, I don't own the Closer, sorry. But I do own the DVDs.

a/n- final chapter's up! But, if you really need to know what happened AFTER taht, I'd suggest to give a look at the epilogue of my mentalist fan-fiction "Children don't lie..."

* * *

They behaved (flirted) like at the wedding for few months, then, suddenly, everything changed, and they become as lost to each other as they never been, even when she was only "his" CSI.

The night she found Flynn at a bar near the precinct, they hadn't been on speaking terms, if not work-related, for over two months. About two months prior, Carter, during what seemed a normal operation; something so easy that no one of them was wearing a bullet-proof vest, had been shot several times in the chest and in the right shoulder (and she even hadn't been the only one hit). Surgery had been long, with severe blood loss and internal damage -nothing that required early retirement or had repercussions, though - and recovery had been even worse. Chief Pope and deputy chief Johnson had gone to visit her "officially", Provenza was there to help angel out of this uneasy situation, while he… he didn't know exactly if he had gone to see her as cop, a friend or, simpler, a man. All he knew was that Carter, the only two times he had been there, was fighting the pain with all herself, or passed out, always clenching her teeth, so hurt she was having a fever, sometimes, he had heard the nurses saying, she was even a bit delirious. She only kept shaking her head whenever they asked her if she wanted morphine, and, once, he overheard a doctor confessing a nurse that he had told her mother she could take the decision for her daughter, since she wasn't thinking clearly because of the pain. Angel, though, had declined the offer, preferring to hold Ivy's hand, while Provenza looked at them at crossed arms from the far away corner. He had tried to talk to Provenza, but he had defended his last wife and her daughter's choices, and, since then, Flynn had barely talked with his partner, and only when it was work-related; even the "confrontation" followed Ivy's leaving of the hospital hadn't go as he had planned, and, just like her co-worker and step-father, the younger cop had defended Angel, with the result that, in the two weeks she had been back to work, Flynn had barely spoken to her as well. And now, she was sick and tired of it. She couldn't deal with Provenza losing his partner and best friend because of her, she couldn't deal with losing the only person she seemed able to be truly herself with.

"All alone and on your own while you should be, instead, celebrating a great victory with the rest of your team? – As she approached Flynn at the bar, she saw he was drinking something, and playing, as often, with a toothpick, clear sign of the fact he was nervous.

"I could say the same about you – he took a sip of the red liquid in the cold glass – go away. If I wanted company, I'd be with the Chief and the others."

"Wow, how cordial today, Flynn – she turned to look at him, something she hadn't done yet - You're not talking with Provenza" she stated, out of the blue, as she ordered her usual cold peach tea with ice.

"I talk with him, okay? I talk with him every day!" he was almost yelling at her.

"Of course you talk with him, about work and at work. You're civil with him, and… - she paused, looking at her glass, her voice low and sad – and you're doing the same to me."

"You both defend her - he said, out of the blue, looking for the first time at her, with a rage that's not aimed at this woman – she… she hurt you! I could understand Provenza, but you! How can you defend her? How can you forgive her?"

"She is my mother, Flynn. It's reasonable that I defend her."

"Filial love, that's great. So, since she is your mummy, you forgive her even if she ordered the doctors to not give you anything while you were in a hospital bed in such a pain you were almost out of your damn mind? You forgive her because, while you were hurting because they had taken a good number of bullets out of you, she felt the need to show the world her beliefs by ordering the doctors to not give you anything against pain even if you were in such a pain you were delirious or out almost the whole time? "

"_Louie_ is defending her just because I told him to, please. Listen…Mum… She did the right thing, the only thing to do. She knew what she had to do, if something like that was going happen. – He looked at her, in silence; Carter was on the verge of tears and something… a light turned on in his mind as he kept looking at her in disbelief, wordless – Why don't you drink? Why you don't get alcoholic things, I mean." She asked out of the blue, cold and serious, looking in his dark eyes.

"Looks like the pain damaged irremediably your brain." he scrolled his shoulders, looking in front of himself, at the barman, ordering another glass of his usual cranberries juice with soda.

"I'm asking – she said still looking at him – so that you could ask me the question that you already pictured in your mind. You said… you keep saying you don't give a damn about my choices, but it doesn't look like that"

"You're a bitch, you know that, Carter? – He paused – I'm a recovering alcoholic. I'm sober from almost 15 years, you happy now? Do you feel better knowing what a loser I was and how great you are judging me from your altar?"

"Go on" they were staring into each other eyes like their lives could depend on it. "Ask me what you want to, I know you want to."

"Why… why no alcohol when we go out with the others, no morphine at the hospital, no painkillers, or even sleeping tablets? I haven't seen you taking something for migraine either. When you have one, you just… you go on. Why?"

"My name is Ivy Carol Carter, I'm a recovering addict and I'm…clean from… 20 years or so."

"What?" he asked her, still in disbelief even if eh had thought about this chance, a chance, thought, that a part of his mind felt, like, foreign; she smiled, a grin, to be more accurate, one of those of those disgusted smile though, because it's disgust she was feeling of herself, it was disgust she had felt for a good part of her life.

"I did every drug I could find. Heroine, Ecstasy, Speed, LSD, I even used morphine and a couple of times I used anti-psychotic and cocktails of medicines as well - she paused, looking at her second glass, still nothing that could give an addiction – I was a junkie, Flynn. I was young, very, very young, but old enough to know that it was stupid, but I still did it because I didn't care about the others and I didn't give a damn even about my own life."

"How old were you?"

"I was 17. That's why it isn't in my records. I wasn't already legal, and… people around me have been able to keep it quiet. – She paused again – Mac Taylor, I already knew him back then. Our fathers… they were friends, kind of, I think. Mac knew I was having… issues… and when I asked him for help, after he pushed the issue for a while... he send me into rehab, got me clean, helped me into coming back into school and helped me find my first job at the Chicago Police Department. "

"Now I got the comment on the lousy dad you made at the wedding…"

"Yeah… Dad didn't take it too well, but that he abandoned me it was never a surprise. Even before the thing come out, we already had issues… He never liked us… his children, I mean. He married my mother because … I think he did it because they were the perfect picture, you know? High school sweethearts, she marries him after graduation, and becomes a stay at home wife who raises the children while he goes to college and university and becomes richer than he already was. – She took a sip of her drink, and then re-started to talk again – Angel was staying with him because of us, but she was unhappy, and when he decided to give up on me, she had enough, and left him. I haven't heard of him in… in said 20 years or so. He didn't even bother to call when Noah died, even if he knew."

"Do you think that you could… you know… lose control again? That's why your mother didn't let the doctor close to you with… the medicines, right?"

"It's just, you know, a precaution. I know myself now, and the reason I did it in the first place are no longer in the game, but, I just want to be careful. You don't touch alcohol; I don't touch something that could be seen as an actual drug. Also because… I have to admit it, at the beginning, I had the temptation of falling all over once again, so… – She turned to him, smiling a bit, this time a sad smile – I've been lucky, you know? Even with everything that happened to me, with everything I did… sometimes I think it's a miracle I'm…"

"Clean?" he asked her, worried.

"The fact I'm not sick doesn't mean I'll ever feel clean again in my whole life. What I did was… wasting my life, and that's being generous. Hell, seriously, what's the difference between that and suicide? – She paused, once again, grinning a bit, less sad but still with a shadow- I want to tell you something, Andy. When you hear about those rich brats who feel like their daddies abandoned them and spends all their money getting high to get the attention of said lousy fathers not giving a damn about them and the rest of their families, even if they know how stupid what they are doing is? Well, since I've been one of them, I can honestly say that sometimes it is indeed true; not always, but sometimes it is, true, and extremely stupid."

"Ivy, I don't feel like a loser just because I used to drink. We all did mistake, and we learn from them." He looked at her sweetly, tenderly, and he used her first name, and he put his hand on her one, squeezing it.

"You had a real life and real problems, a family to look after and an hard job; I was just a damn kid who felt neglected by her dad - she turned to not face him, and tried to remove her hand from his gasp, without being able to – Flynn, let it go of me" the use of his surname didn't go unnoticed by him.

"You come here to talk with me, and it's Andy. We said we weren't going to call each other by surname when we were alone. You called me Andy the whole night. Why calling me Flynn now?"

"You make it sound like it is dirty…like it was just something dirty"

"No, there's nothing dirty about it, Ivy, we both know you. We knew it back then."

"I've never talked about it with anyone, not even Noah and Don…they just knew I used to be in rehab, but not why, or what I exactly did, how long it went on or… – she paused, looking in front of her do you ever think about the dinner at the Chateaux LaGrange? What happened after the rehearsal dinner, I mean."

"I try to not think about it too much. It's… I'm not such a masochist, even if sometime I think otherwise, considering that… I still work with you, don't I?"

"I always think about it" she admitted, not looking at him but at his hand still holding hers.

"Figures… Knowing you, you'll always think about how much you regret it."

"Yes, I mean, no, I… I don't regret sleeping with you, and I don't regret talking with you now. The only thing I regret is how I turned you down. How I tried to act as nothing happened, as nothing had changed between us." She smiled a little "Not that it stopped you from trying to change my mind or flirting with me the whole day of the wedding…"

"Blame your mother. Even Julio flirted with you that day! I tell you, it was the dress!"

She laughed at that, honestly, looking again at him, a light in her eyes. "That's what I meant. You… you bring fun in my life. You always find a way to make me laugh and smile. - She interlaced their fingers again, as he looked at them, her eyes still focused on him. – You don't judge me because I did mistake. You think I could learn from them. When I told Don… he avoided me for days because he needed time to "adjust to it", he said, while you… you keep comforting me!"

"I should have tried to convince you to stay that morning"

"When you told me that day that maybe nothing happened before because we hadn't been ready yet, I think you were right. I guess it took me a little longer to adjust to it."

"So, does it mean that we could share a couple of meals in nice and cozy restaurants and look at how things could develop?"

"Andy, we've known each other for more than 10 years. I think we could skip the dating part, at this point…also because we already skipped few steps."

"Detective Lieutenant Carter, you have a dirty mind…."

"I'm pretty sure you have given signs of appreciating how my dirty mind can work, along with my… voice, among other things"

"Can't say I didn't like you whispering my name… I guess the only thing left to decide it's if we're going to your place or mine."

"Tell me, Andy, have you ever been in Malibu?"


End file.
